NEED
CHAPTER 1
Charlie Dinguss let out another yawn as the boredom of the evening continued to take its toll. He quickly stifled it, knowing his supervisor would have his head for slacking on the job. Adjusting his posture, Charlie stared out onto the inky blackness of the forest ahead. His gaze saw past the razor wire-topped fence that barred entrance to the parking lot where Charlie now stood on guard. Yea, right, he thought, No one would be even remotely stupid enough to try and get in here.
An almost inaudible crack off in the forest grabbed Charlie's attention. He strained his eyes into the forest, seeking for an intruder. The darkness only responded with its gloomy silence and mystery, and no further noises were heard. Charlie craned his neck, still attempting to pierce the veil of the night that had crept over the forest.
A rabbit...Had to be a rabbit, he thought. Charlie stalked closer to the fence's edge, MP5 clutched in his tight grip like the security blanket of a scared child. Beads of sweat began to form on Charlie's head, and a single drop began to course its way down his furrowed brow. He pointed the SMG into the darkness of the trees, eyes scanning about wildly. He took one step closer…
"Perimeter, report!"
Charlie leapt at the sound of his radio activating. It was his supervisor calling for all perimeter guards to report the evening's activity. Charlie peered once more into the night, and seeing nothing, he sighed inwardly. He cursed himself for his foolishness and reached for his radio. He pulled it free from its holster, clicked the button, and spoke into the receiver. "Perimeter three, no activity," he said, and then replaced the radio back in its holster. He looked once more into the shadows, scoffed at the trees, and turned about to resume his patrol.
Charlie shivered for a moment. He slung his weapon over his shoulder and grabbed at his shoulders, chilled thru and thru. Charlie marveled for a moment, as it was becoming spring. It was then that he had the feeling of someone walking over his own grave, that he was not alone…that someone was watching him. He began to feel drowsy, almost unnaturally so. His eyelids grew exceedingly heavy and hard to keep open. He felt his stance falter and he tried to stiffen his legs, but found them to be useless under the weight of his body. Charlie felt his mind cloud, he could not think straight, and soon, he fell to the ground in a heap. He snored for a moment, and immediately fell asleep.
In the denseness of the forest, Jimmy Hildebrandt, known to his Emerald Sentinel companions as Psykick, relaxed his control over the now-sleeping guard that had almost heard his companion and him. Psykick looked to his old friend and said, "Alright dude, that should be the perimeter guards laid out, and maybe some of the upper floor. Should be easy for you from there."
The man next to Psykick did not respond, but simply pulled a black ski mask over his face. He surveyed the situation for a moment, and silently agreeing with Psykick that the perimeter guards had indeed been disabled, he looked at the wild-haired mentalist and replied, "You did your part Jimmy. I'm not letting you go any further." His gaze penetrated the blue lenses of the 1962-era sunglasses that Psykick liked to sport, even at night. Psykick opened his mouth to protest, but the ski-masked man held up a black gloved finger and interrupted, "I mean it, Jimmy." The man in black reached into a small side pouch and pulled forth a small envelope. The word, "Astraios" appeared on the front of it, and it was stamped with a small American flag.
The man continued, "If something in there goes wrong, or if you don't hear from me in a week, you take that to the Astraios Foundation building on Talos Island. Just leave it on the doorstep, if you want to avoid a bunch of questions that you don't have the answers to. The letter explains everything…everything," he repeated. The man in black stood up and scanned once more for any opposition. Finding none, he ran to the fence and began to scale it. He scrambled over the razor wire, being very ginger. He flipped himself over the fence, and let out an inaudible grunt of pain as the razor wire sliced thru the gloves and bit into his hand. He landed deftly on the other side of the fence, and examined his slit palm. He tried to remember the last time he had seen his own blood, and decided that it had been awhile. The serum must have completely worn off, he thought to himself. He looked back into the tree line, and saw Psykick give him a thumbs-up, a silent "Good Luck".
The man behind the black attire, William Andross, aka Flagwaver, nodded back at Psykick, and picking up the fallen MP5, the radio, and security card of one Charlie Dinguss, Flagwaver ran toward the front side door of one the Crey Corporation's secret warehouses. He approached the door, slid the card into the lock, and with a soft click, the door unlocked. Flagwaver opened the door, swept the empty corridor with the MP5 and then made his way inside. His objective was somewhere in this building. He was sure of it.
It HAS to be!
With deft fingers, the alien being known as Zur'tal assembled the components of his favorite late-night snack. Peanut butter, pineapples, oysters, and Tabasco sauce on toasted sourdough. Zur'tal was putting the last dab of Tabasco on the bread, when a thought hit him. It hit him so quickly and so hard that Zur dropped the bottle onto the floor of the Astraios Foundation kitchen. The bottle clattered loudly on the cool tiles, but did not break. Zur'tal took no notice of the spilled sauce, but instead cast his gaze out of the far window. He stepped thru the puddle of sauce and walked over to the window that showed the picturesque night sky, and the buildings of Talos Island beneath.
Zur'tal focused his mind, unable to pinpoint exactly what he was thinking about, or what had grabbed his attention. But it was there, gnawing away at the back of his mind. Something was wrong. Something was usually wrong in Paragon City, but this was unlike any simple crime. Zur'tal felt the wrongness creep thru his body, but still could not place it. He gazed his large eyes out into the cloudy night.
He did not even notice the appearance of Civil Liberty at his side. Civil looked at his alien friend, and then out the window to what he was looking for. Civil could see nothing, but he could feel the tension radiating from Zur. Civil suddenly felt it too. It was a cold, creeping sensation that his mental powers immediately stretched out to determine the source of. Civil closed his eyes, scanning the city with his mind. His eyes popped open to find Zur'tal staring at him, silently asking Civil if he could see what he could not.
Civil's breath came in a short gasp as he spoke of what he saw and felt.
"Flagwaver!"